


even if you're not ok, i'll be here

by Yep_Im_Here_Too



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, shippy if u want it to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26278996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yep_Im_Here_Too/pseuds/Yep_Im_Here_Too
Summary: Dream has a bad time, and George is there to comfort him.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 547





	even if you're not ok, i'll be here

Dream considered himself to be a generally happy person. Always joking with friends, having fun with his fans, cooing over Patches. Of course, like everyone, he had his bad days. Plus the occasional raging on Minecraft. But, overall, he was just a positive person. 

However, sometimes he had little episodes. 

Whether they were triggered by a series of unfortunate mistakes, or bad news, or nothing at all, sometimes Dream would just have to lay down for a while. Stare at the ceiling overthinking his life, cry for an hour or two and then sleep until the next day. It wasn’t often, maybe every few months, but it still happened.

As Dream sat in his recording room, he could feel an episode coming on in the way he couldn’t seem to focus on his screen, and his hands turning numb with cold even as they were tucked into his sweatshirt sleeves. He sighed.

It had been a good few months since the last time this happened. With George finally moving to America, settling down in a new house, and getting used to life with his best friend, Dream was just too busy for this happen. But of course, good things don’t last forever.

He got up slowly from his setup, already feeling a little fatigued. His thoughts were murky, and he had to squint slightly to focus his vision. The american headed past his bedroom down the hall into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water for later. Crying makes one very dehydrated, and Dream knew from experience he wouldn’t be getting out of bed for the rest of the day.

He trudged back down the hall, carefully placing the water onto his nightstand and turning the lights off before flopping face first into the bed. 

He wished he could just lay there and sleep forever. It would be a lot easier than dealing with whatever this dumb shit was. 

Rolling onto his back, Dream pulled the blanket over him. He knew it wasn’t cold in the house, but he was still shivering. How pathetic. He could feel his face droop, and struggled to keep his eyes open. Maybe this time he could skip right to the sleeping part.

Dream vaguely remembered a snatch of a song he heard somewhere. 

_“Bury me six feet deep, and just cover me in concrete please..”_

He gave a wry smile. That sounded pretty nice, he thought, as the familiar heat behind his eyes started to build up. He curled onto his side facing the wall, still huddling for warmth even under the blanket. 

God, why was he so pathetic? Nobody else hides in the dark crying to themselves over nothing. Nothing even happened. He was just being stupid and sad for no reason.

 _Maybe because you’re depressed. Picture perfect life with a million reasons to be happy and you’re depressed, hiding in your room,_ said the annoying voice in the back of his head.

I’m not _depressed_ , he bitterly shot back as the first tear slid sideways down his face.

His breath hitched, and he curled into himself further. He tucked his shaking hands under his chin, hoping to warm them up somehow. His face felt burning hot, streams of salt trailing across his face and into the pillow. But the rest of his body felt plunged in cold water. Moving was like trying to wade against a river’s current. His legs were slowly turning numb along with his hands. He shivered.

Dream felt the urge to sob rise up, but he closed his throat and cut it off into a whimper. Through the fog, he remembered George was still in the house somewhere. His breath stuttered in fear at the thought of the british boy finding him like this. George’s opinion of him would probably never be the same. Maybe he’d keep him at arms length from then on, like his unjustified sadness was a disease. Or maybe he’d treat Dream like cracked glass, afraid of shattering him forever. Perhaps he’d warn all his friends too, don’t say anything bad to Dream or he might break down crying at any moment. Maybe George would go back to England thinking it was his fault, and leave Dream alone for the rest of his life.

His pillow was thoroughly soaked now. Dream felt disgusting, snot dripping from his nose as he wiped it on his sleeve. Some of the salt from his tears was drying on his red and blotchy face, making his skin feel stiff. He felt a headache blooming from his expression being scrunched up.

Dream felt disgusting, knowing there was no reason for him to feel like this.

It only made him cry harder, his breath stopping and starting as his lungs tried to drag in oxygen through the hitching in his chest. He could barely even feel his body anymore, but knew he was shaking all over. A strangled sob wrenched its way out of his throat.

He heard his door being pushed open, and his heart stopped. 

“Hey Dream, do you- uh.. were you sleeping? Sorry.” George’s voice drifted over him.

Ah shit, he forgot to close the fucking door. He and George had agreed on an open/closed door policy, open meaning come right in and closed meaning stay away. Figures he forgot.

He tried to still the shivers wracking his body, and stifle his shuddering breaths with a hand across his mouth. Hopefully George would just leave.

Unfortunately, it seems like he did a bad job, because he heard faint footsteps trailing to his bed. Dream squeezed his eyes shut and desperately cursed the universe for making him like this.

He felt the bed dip behind him. George’s whisper-soft voice spoke up again. “Dream..? Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

Dream couldn’t manage to breathe properly, let alone speak, so he shrugged and hoped George would leave it at that.

He felt a hand hesitantly placed on his shoulder. Dream nearly sobbed, the force of pushing it down making his ribs sore. He wanted George to get out, wanted him to leave so he could wallow in his own misery pretend nothing happened tomorrow. 

But his hand was comforting, and so, so, _warm_. He wanted to grab it, cradle it close within his own palms. He wanted something to hold on to. 

God, George never should have seen him like this in the first place. Why didn’t he close the fucking _door?_

Dream didn’t know what he wanted anymore.

A painful whimper ripped out of his throat, even with his trembling hand still clasped over his face. 

The bed shifted, and he felt George scoot closer to him, turning so he was facing Dream. The hand on his shoulder slid up onto his head, petting his hair soothingly. He heard the british man hum low in his throat, trying to calm Dream.

The action made Dream realize it was too late to care anymore. He let his shoulders droop, the tension in his back slowly receding, and the space his eyebrows smoothed out a bit. He dropped his hand from his face, and let his body uncurl slightly from the ball he had become under the blanket. But still, the tears kept flowing. 

He just wanted comfort. He didn’t care about looking as pathetic as he was anymore. 

He tried to force words from his aching throat, not even sure what he was trying to say. But all that came out was a pitiful, choked-off whine.

Even so, it seems George had gotten the message somehow. Dream silently thanked the stars as he felt his friend slowly raise the blanket and lay down behind him, gathering his cold body into a spooning position. He put one arm over Dream’s torso, the other tucked behind his back and slowly massaging at the base of his scalp. 

God, George was so warm. Dream felt like he had a campfire behind him, warming him pleasantly without being too hot. His entire body loosened and his shivers gradually lessened as he relaxed into George’s comforting hold. He didn’t know what he did to deserve this. George really was too good for him.

The exhaustion hit Dream full force now, his tears slowing to a stop and his breathing evening out. his limbs felt incredibly heavy, and he let his eyes fall closed, trusting in the comfort George was giving him.

It probably wouldn’t be the last time Dream fell apart like this, but maybe this time George can help put him back together a little stronger.

**Author's Note:**

> props to you if you know what song i mentioned ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bVG8SD1aucE (the second half is my favorite))
> 
> if you ever find yourself feeling like dream, its ok to ask for help/comfort! just because "other people have it worse" doesnt mean you deserve to suffer alone ❤️


End file.
